


The Salesman and the Jinn

by AnnieVH



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Djinni & Genies, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 08:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18567463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: The jinn does grant wishes, and Salim has just become his reluctant master.





	The Salesman and the Jinn

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Salim accidentally frees a jinn from his amulet and becomes his master.
> 
> Warning for slavery and very mild violence - or rather, violent thoughts.

There was smoke. First it was a little but it soon became a lot, coming straight out of the amulet in his hand. Salim had no explanation for it, though his mind was trying to rationalize the insanity to the best of its ability. He thought of magic tricks, of disease, even some sort of bomb, but none of it made sense in his head. His hotel room continued to be filled with black, thick smoke, until he could see nothing before his eyes.

Then, as sudden as it had come, the fog cleared, dissipating into the air and leaving no trace it had ever existed, except the fading scent of burning charcoal.

And a man.

Salim didn't see him at first, he'd been too distracted waving the smoke away from his face. When his eyes landed on the man, however, he screamed, stumbled backwards, then fell heavily into the space between the wall and the bed.

The inexplicable man, who most definitely had _not_ stood there a moment before, eyed him and let out a low, impatient sound. In Arabic, he asked Salim, “What is your language?”

Salim understood but couldn't find a voice to answer. Muted by shock, he stared from the floor, feeling foolish and exposed in his underwear and unbuttoned shirt. Was he going insane? What the hell kind of amulet was this?

The man frowned and took a step closer. Salim tried to recoil against the wall but his muscles refused to obey him. When he spoke again, he had switched from Arabic to another language Salim didn't speak but was fairly certain to be Hindi.

He didn't know what to do. He was vulnerable on the floor with this much larger man towering over him, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes glaring down at him. At least, that was what Salim thought they were doing, it was hard to tell. His eyes were not human but two bright, burning flames that glowed quite menacingly in the dimly lit room. Either way, they were staring down at him and Salim didn't think this man, this _creature_ was very pleased to see him.

If Salim had found his voice or the courage to speak, he would've said that the feeling was mutual. Just looking at this man was deeply disconcerting, not only because of his eyes but also because he was as naked as the day he was born, a fact that didn't seem to cause him an ounce of shame.

He switched to another language, which Salim recognized as Turkish, though he had no idea what he was trying to say.

“What _are_ you?” Salim finally managed to blurt out, his voice meek in spite of the shock.

“Ah!” the creature said, his frown breaking into a little smile, which seemed to have more to do with finally being able to move the conversation along than with being genuinely happy. “English. That works better than Turkish.”

The creature crouched down to Salim's level. Salim's body seemed to recognize the threat because he tried to scoot away, though there was really nowhere to scoot to.

“Tell me, my friend,” he asked, though his tone was far from friendly. “What year is it?”

“What?”

“What year is it?” he repeated, enunciating the words as if Salim was a slow learner. His accent was thick and there was something rough in his voice, but his English was good and clear. “The Christian calendar will do. My last Master was a Christian man.”

Salim swallowed down his fear and told him. Then, he added the Hijri year, for good measure.

The creature frowned his human-like face. Were it not for the eyes, Salim would've been fooled.

“You _are_ Muslim,” he stated, switching back to Arabic without warning.

Salim, who'd been making an effort to speak English, took a moment to organize his thoughts, but then switched to Arabic as well and said, “I am.”

“I thought you were, but you didn't seem to understand me when I-”

“You gave me a fright.”

“Forgive me,” it said, though he hadn't bothered to look or sound remotely sorry.

Salim eyed him from head to toe, taking in the eyes, the size of his shoulders, the mass of his body, and trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this entire being had come from inside that little compartment in the amulet.

“What are you?” he asked again, his voice with a light note of panic to it.

“You know what I am. Don't be hysterical.”

Salim was about to answer – what, he did not know, he just knew he had to say something – when someone knocked on the door.

The creature said, “You should answer that.” And stepped out of the way.

With much difficulty, Salim emerged from the gap between the wall and the bed and tried to take deep, calming breaths on his way to the door. He threw one last look at the man. No matter what he said, _hysterical_ seemed like a proper reaction to having someone or some _thing_ jump out of an old amulet, stark naked and speaking in tongues.

One of the men who were always at the front desk had come to check on him. He claimed someone had heard a scream. Salim told him that he'd tripped on the bed and apologized for the inconvenience. It wasn't until the man was gone and the door was closed that he realized that perhaps it would've been wiser to ask him to come in. If someone else could see that thing then it meant he wasn't losing his mind.

Or perhaps the wise thing to do would have been to run as far away as possible.

But Salim came back into the room – why, he couldn't say – and saw his unwanted guest had turned his back on him and was staring out of the window. His eyes and his nudity were reflected on the glass and Salim didn't know which made him more uncomfortable. He tried to open the window, but it stopped a third of the way up.

“Why won't this open?” he whispered at his own reflection.

“They... they just don't.”

“I need air. Fresh air.”

“You won't get much of that in this city,” Salim told him. “You are a jinn, aren't you?”

The creature didn't answer at first, instead looking out of the window for a moment longer. Outside, New York City gleamed with a million lights and some of the noise was coming into the room. Salim didn't like New York, he found it too loud and busy, with filthy buildings and a mess of different people that looked nothing like the people he knew. It didn't feel like home, not at all. However, the jinn's face had softened as he watched the city outside, as if the noise and the filth were something to be admired and even coveted. When he turned around, his face was hard again.

“That I am,” said the jinn, crossing his arms once more. “And you are my Master.”

Salim's eyes strayed down his torso and in between his legs, then snapped back up again.

“I... I'm nobody's Master. I just opened the, uhn...”

He pointed at the amulet he'd dropped on the bed. It wasn't much to look at, it was filthy, the copper faded and leaving an unpleasant smell on his hands. He'd been trying to decipher the strange markings on it – which he couldn't read – when he found the tiniest latch on its surface. It had opened with a click and a whole lot of smoke.

“That's really all it takes,” said the jinn. “I belong to you now.”

“No, no, no, that's not right,” Salim said, shaking his head. “I didn't ask for- this is a mistake.”

The jinn was staring at him now. He said, “Is that amulet yours?”

“I- yes, but-”

“Did you steal it?”

“No! I had to buy it! I- I dented it, they wouldn't let me-”

“But it's yours?”

“ _Technically,_ but-”

“And did you open it?”

“Yes, but I didn't know-”

“Then I am your slave and you are my Master,” the jinn stated, matter-of-factly. “You have three wishes. What will they be?”

Salim gaped at the jinn, overwhelmed. “I what?”

“You have three wishes. What will they be?” he repeated, his tone becoming impatient.

“I wish... I wish that you go back into your amulet, you evil creature, and bother me no longer,” Salim said, seizing the amulet and holding it _at_ the jinn.

The flames in his eyes seemed to focus on the amulet, then they switched back to Salim.

“I'm not evil,” said the jinn. “I don't appreciate being called a _creature_. And I can't go back inside the amulet until you've had your three wishes.”

Probably realizing Salim was going to need some time to wrap his head around what was happening, the jinn turned around and went back to staring out of the window.

Salim still held on to the bottle with shaky hands, brandishing it like a weapon, but the seconds ticked by and it became apparent to him that his wish was not going to be granted.

“Fine,” he said, defeated, dropping the amulet on the bed again. “Fine, just... here.”

He fetched a towel from the bathroom and gave it to the jinn, who took it but didn't cover himself.

“This is a towel,” he said.

Salim nodded. “Yes.”

“What do you expect me to do with it?”

“Just... wrap it around yourself.”

“Why?”

“Because you're naked!”

His eyes blinked slowly at Salim. “Yes?”

“It's not decent.”

The tiniest smirk appeared on the jinn's mouth and Salim didn't like it one bit. He asked, “Have you never seen a naked man before?”

“Am I your Master, or not?” Salim snapped.

The jinn flinched for just the fraction of a second, then he did as he was told and wrapped the towel around his waist.

“Is this better, Master?” he asked, clearly displeased.

Salim said, “Yes. Better.”

Without another word, the jinn turned back to the window. Salim, remembering his own nudity, buttoned his shirt again and put the pants he'd already folded back on. Then, he sat on the bed and glanced at the jinn, who hadn't moved from the window.

Salim said, “That was rude of me. I'm sorry.” But the jinn didn't say anything.

They remained silent for a long time, the jinn looking through the window and Salim praying that he would wake up at any time now. There was no doubt in his mind that most people would've regarded this as a great opportunity and they'd be driving themselves insane trying to make the best out of their three wishes. Salim had been raised with stories of mystical beings bestowing wonderful gifts on mere mortals, only to learn that there was nothing magical about real life. And now that magic was at the reach of his fingertips, Salim wanted nothing to do with it.

It was a waste to grant him something like this. He wasn't the kind of person who complained about his lot in life and had come to accept and be thankful for the small things he'd been given. Asking for more would be greedy than what God had granted him would be greedy.

And then there was the matter of the jinn. The people of the fire were cunning and cruel, they liked to play with mankind. Whoever put that amulet in his way, it hadn't been his God.

The jinn came over to stand in front of him.

Salim shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

“You have three wishes,” said the jinn. “Once you make them, you cannot take them back. My magic is not as strong as it used to be, so you might want to be reasonable. Do you understand?”

“I think I do.”

The jinn watched him and said, “I appreciate that this is the kind of decision one should think through carefully and it's not my place to rush you, Master-”

“Please, don't call me that.”

“However,” the jinn continued, ignoring him, “as I take no pleasure in belonging to you and you seem to have, uhn... moral constraints about this arrangement,” there was so much disgust in these words one might have thought Salim was committing a crime, “should we try to move this along?”

“And I won't be rid of you unless I wish for something?”

“You will not.”

“What if I never wish for anything?”

“Then I will be forced to follow you where you go until you do, or until you die.”

Salim rubbed his eyes. There was no way out of this.

“Very well,” he gave in. “And what can I ask for?”

“Whatever you want, within reason. I can't bring back the dead and I can't create love where there is none. I do, however, know entities that might just do that, but then you'll have to deal with them.”

“No, I don't think I want to deal with any other... whatever they are.”

“Once you're done with your three wishes, I will return to my amulet and you may leave it for someone else to find. It will not open again for you. You'll be free of me forever.”

“Well... how do I know you won't trick me?”

“I won't trick you,” he said, with great sorrow. “Not for as long as I belong to you.”

He offered no reassurance but Salim thought that he spoke the truth.

“And if I wanted to set you free, how would I do that?”

“You won't.”

The jinn turned away before Salim could say anything.

“I don't believe I could wish for world peace?”

The jinn scoffed. “What is it with your kind and world peace?”

“Could I ask for three small things, then?”

“Why would you do that?”

“So that this can be over. I could ask for, I don't know, a new pair of shoes.”

The jinn seemed to think about it, and said, “Not that I care what you do with your wishes, but you will regret it bitterly if you don't use them carefully. In all likelihood, I'm the only one of my kind you will ever meet.”

“Are there many jinn in New York.”

“I wouldn't know. And even if there are, they're all free.”

“And you're...”

Salim left the end of his sentence hanging in the air. The jinn didn't finish it.

“I mean, you're not free?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm tethered to that amulet and a slave to whoever owns it. That makes me your slave.”

“That doesn't seem right.”

“Do you have a wish or not?” the jinn pressed.

Salim asked, “Can I ask how long you were inside of that amulet?”

“Thirty seven years.”

Salim nodded, too stunned for words. No wonder he claimed to need fresh air.

“Would you like to go outside?”

“I am your slave, I go where you go.”

“But what do you want?”

“I do not want. I follow.”

“Yes, but...” Salim thought again, trying to rephrase. “Would it make you _happy_ to follow me outside and eat something?”

“If it pleases you-”

“It would make me _really_ happy if you could just say yes or no.”

The jinn stared for a moment, then granted, “I could eat.”

“Good, that's good.”

Salim went to the closet to pick something for the jinn to wear.

 

 

Salim had been losing weight since he'd come to America and his suits were becoming loose on his body. Pretty soon, he'd look shabby and sick if he didn't put some of those pounds he'd lost back on. His clothes barely fit the jinn, though, given he was a couple of inches taller and much broader. The jeans he'd given him ended just above his ankles and the white shirt was too tight. Upon being offered a sweater, the jinn told him it was not necessary. He wasn't going to be cold.

To hide his eyes, Salim dared to take one of the cheap plastic glasses from the sample case of tourist trinkets Fuad had told him to guard with his life. They were adorned with the American flag and his brother-in-law would skin him alive had he known Salim had giving it away to a stranger. Overall, the result is ill-fitting, glaringly hand-me-down, but this was New York City. He'd seen much worse on the subway trains.

They left the room together, Salim leading the way, the jinn following just behind him. He didn't bat an eye at the elevator and didn't say anything. Thirty-seven years was a long time and Salim guessed that the modern world would puzzle his new companion, but the jinn not only seem unimpressed by everything around him, he was utterly uninterested. Perhaps he was all-knowing and understood how things worked.

The jinn didn't pick up the pace or tried to walk beside him, choosing to follow a couple of steps behind, like a bodyguard. Still, once they reached the crosswalk, Salim held him by the arm to make sure he didn't run into traffic. The jinn looked at his hand. Salim let go of his arm and kept his eyes in front of him.

“You have to wait for the sign,” Salim said, pointing at the other side of the street. When the little green man lit up, the jinn tilted his head to the side.

“I'd forgotten those,” he said, finally sounding a little bit curious about his surroundings.

“It means you can cross.”

Salim started walking, comically slow to make sure the jinn understood. A cab decided to cut the light and he had to jump back not to get hit. The jinn grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him.

When Salim's breathing had returned to normal, he heard the jinn's voice, close to his ear, asking, “Would you like me to smite him?”

“No!” Salim said, quickly. “No, don't do that. No smiting.”

“If you do, you'll have to sacrifice one of your wishes.”

“I don't want that. Just... let him be.”

“I've killed men for less.”

Salim shuddered and escaped his grasp. Where had he gotten himself into?

“That man angered you,” the jinn said, as they walked down the street. The rain had stopped and the sidewalks were covered in puddles and mud, garbage floating in the water.

“What?”

“The man on the...” He frowned for a second, then said, “Car. That was a car.”

“Yes, it was a car. And he didn't anger me. He just scared me, that's all.”

“No, it was more than that. I could feel it.”

“Could you maybe walk beside me?” Salim asked. “It's difficult to have a conversation if I have to keep looking over my shoulder.”

The jinn covered the distance in one step and stood shoulder to shoulder with him.

“You sure you don't wish to have his head?”

“What can you do that won't cost me a wish?” Salim asked, just so he would stop talking about murder.

“What do you mean?”

“You said you are my servant and you have to follow my orders. Does that mean you will follow me around, or...?”

“I can do small things. Things that would require none or very little magic. Whatever you'd require of a regular servant.”

“I have no servants.”

He felt the jinn giving him a look over, perhaps to assess what kind of master he'd ended up with. Salim could picture him serving the wealthiest of sultans, businessmen, politicians, people who mattered and who'd do much better with three wishes than Salim ever could. Instead, he'd ended up with a mediocre salesman from Oman.

“You have one servant,” said the jinn. “I belong to you now.”

“I wish you'd stop saying that.”

“It's the truth.”

“What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever you'll deem me worthy of.”

“It's not a-” Salim stopped. This was going to take much longer if he kept questioning every step of the way. “There's a falafel place on the corner. Their food is good. You might enjoy it.”

Salim had spent the last week coming and going from the little falafel shop near the hotel and the owners, two Iranian brothers, were starting to greet him with large smiles every time he came in. They'd shared polite conversation in the past, which mostly consisted of reminiscing of home and complaining about America. They took a look at the jinn and asked, “Who's your friend?”

“My cousin, he's staying for a few days.”

“You enjoying America, my friend?” asked one of the brothers.

The jinn looked at him, then at Salim.

Salim said, “His English is not good.”

The other brother laughed. “And they let him in? He's lucky.”

In Arabic, he told the jinn to sit at a table and wait, then ordered kebabs and fries, twice as many for his companion because he assumed he'd be hungry after his slumber. Upon looking at his plate, he said, “I don't need so much.”

“Eat as you wish. I can't return it anyway.”

Despite claiming otherwise, the jinn devoured his meal and Salim wondered if his previous master hadn't cared much about his well-being.

“Here,” Salim said, handing him a bottle of ketchup. “Try with this on. It's sauce.”

The jinn tried it, but whether he liked it or not it didn't show on his face.

“You don't have to eat it if you don't enjoy it,” Salim said.

“You told me to.”

“No, I was- it was just a suggestion. You can eat anything you want.”

Still, the jinn drenched his fries in ketchup and didn't say another word. He'd have to be careful with his words from now on. He'd hate to cause him unnecessary discomfort.

“You're not eating,” the jinn said.

“I'm not really hungry. I'm...” Salim rubbed his eyes. “I'm dizzy.”

“It will pass,” the jinn said, still chewing. “Once you've had your first wish, you'll regret not having more of them. Yet, you'll only have three.”

Salim nodded. “And what if I said... I wish- I don't know- what if I'm hungry and I say I wish I had a falafel? Does that count or-”

“There's a specific way to phrase it. Even the dumbest human can do it.”

“Ah,” Salim said, slightly offended. “Thank you.”

He saw the glimpse of a smile on the jinn's mouth, before he started chewing the last of his fries. Salim pushed his full, lukewarm plate towards him.

“Have mine, I'm not hungry. Wait!” He stopped and rephrased. “ _Would_ you like to eat mine?”

The jinn blinked. “If you wish me to.”

This was going to be complicated.

“Eat mine... only if you're hungry.”

He didn't know whether that made things better but the jinn started eating nonetheless.

“How do you eat in that amulet?” Salim asked.

“I don't.”

“Were you asleep?”

“I was suspended, somewhere between your world and my own.”

Salim frowned. “Suspended?”

The jinn swallowed more fries and explained, “It wasn't a slumber. It was something else. Like a lucid dream. I knew the minutes were passing me by, but my body didn't respond to time.”

Salim wasn't sure if that sounded like a blessing or a curse.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“I'm yours. You may ask me anything.”

“Will you answer?”

Now he could see him smiling. “I will answer as best I can.”

“Were you always in that locket?”

“No, not always.”

“So you were once free.”

“I was.”

“How did you end up in there?”

“Someone put me in there.”

“And when was that?”

“A long time ago.”

“When you came to America?”

“No, it was long before that.” He paused to chew some more and Salim thought he'd leave it at that, but then he added, “I only came to America... some one hundred years ago. I was already in that amulet. It was a merchant, he brought me along. I was his, then. He wasn't too bad of a Master. He treated me with kindness and gratitude.” He took greedy sip off the bottle of water. “His grandson had me next but he wasn't like his grandfather at all. I was as good as the dirt on his shoes.”

“But I assume your Masters don't last long? Once they've made their three wishes, you can move on to the next.”

“I don't move on. I go back inside the bottle. What happens to it is beyond my control.” Again, he paused to eat more off his plate, then continued. “Some do last. The clever ones. The ones that know they should save a last wish for a rainy day. Ali did that.”

“Your kind master?”

“Yes. He was old and gray by the time I granted him a final wish. He called me his friend, which I'm not sure I was. I wouldn't have stayed with him if I had the choice of leaving. Still, as far as servitude goes, he treated me like he would a man. I worked in his tailor shop until his wife got sick and he had to use his last wish to save her. He was patient and saved that wish for a moment of desperation.”

“That is clever, but I couldn't do that.”

“Why not?”

“I wouldn't want to own someone for so long.”

The jinn shook his head, reprovingly. “You sound like Ali.”

“And after that, you belonged to his grandson?”

“Yes. His idiot grandson. He kept asking for more and he was never satisfied with what he got.” He cleaned the grease from his fingers. “The one who came after him, he was a sadistic fuck. I'm glad he's dead.”

Salim stared at him but the jinn didn't explain. He decided not to ask.

“You said I can't free you. Why is that?”

“I didn't say you can't. I said you won't.”

“Why wouldn't I? It doesn't seem right to me.”

“Because you could only free me using your last wish, and by then you won't want to waste something that precious on me.”

“But I will free you. If that is what you want.”

“You're not the first to make me that promise. Forgive me if I'm skeptical.” Before Salim could say anything, he continued, “However, once you decide not to free me, it would be kind if you could pass me on to another Muslim master. They tend to be more mindful. And they scream a lot less when you pop out of thin air.”

Salim would've laughed if the situation didn't make him so tense. He wanted to set the jinn free and couldn't see why he was so reluctant to believe him. Besides, he couldn't think of anyone to pass the amulet to. If he were a good person, perhaps he'd have given it to Fuad as gratitude for bringing him to America. Except that Salim didn't feel grateful, he hated everything about being forced into this experience and he knew Fuad wasn't happy either. If his sister hadn't bullied her husband into compliance, this wouldn't have happened at all; however, she'd grown fearful for Salim's safety and insisted that America would be a better place for a man like him.

Fatima was a good sister and a kind person, she'd know what to do with the jinn, if she was clever enough not to tell her husband.

“You're angry again,” said the jinn.

“I'm not,” Salim said, though he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. Fuad had a way of making him feel inadequate, emasculated. If he weren't such a good husband to Fatima, he might have long told him to go to hell. Or maybe he would've kept his mouth shut either way, he'd never been good at conflict.

“No, you _are_ ,” the jinn insisted and there was pleasure in his voice, like he'd caught Salim at a moment of vulnerability that could be exploited. “Something or someone has gotten under your skin.”

“It doesn't matter.”

“It didn't matter, but it does now because _now_ you have _me_.”

“So?”

“So you can do something about it. Whatever it is that makes you angry- _whoever_ it is, they don't have to be a problem anymore.”

Salim stared at him. Not for the first time, he was afraid of the jinn and of the things he was implying. Worse than that, he was actually tempted. Fuad was such a thorn on his side. Life had never been perfect, but it'd gotten a little worse since he'd come into his family. His parents barely looked at Salim like he was part of the family anymore, he knew that they'd finally gotten the son they'd always wanted. Even Fatima was, at times, so dazzled by her loving husband and his many gifts to pay attention to him.

“Well then?” the jinn asked, a cruel smile on his lips. “What will it be?”

“Do you really have to do everything I tell you to?”

“I do, indeed.”

“Then I wish for you to shut the fuck up.”

That didn't seem to bother him. With a final curl of his lips, his mouth snapped shut.

Salim got up. “Let's go back to the hotel.”

 

 

They walked in absolute silence on the wet sidewalk, the jinn following behind again. This time, Salim didn't ask him to come closer. He wanted to put as much distance as he could between the two of them.

It was only when they entered the bedroom that Salim realized a problem that hadn't crossed his mind yet: there was only one bed. He stood in the center of the room, at a loss for words, until the jinn smirked at him. He motioned at his own mouth. Salim said, “Yes, go on.”

The jinn's lips parted with a snap and he said, “The chair will suffice, if that is what you wish.”

“It doesn't- we can ask for a cot-”

“No need,” the jinn said, heading to the chair without a second thought.

Salim showered quickly and returned to the bedroom already in pajamas. The jinn hadn't moved from the chair, where he sat with his legs crossed.

“Will you just stay there all night?”

“Unless you require anything else.”

Salim opened his mouth, thinking he might just wish for him to make himself invisible because the thought of going to sleep with the jinn's burning eyes staring at him all night made him uncomfortable. However, the thought of him disappearing and Salim not being able to know if he was standing over him was even worst.

“No, I require nothing else.”

The jinn gave him a bow of the head and not another word.

Salim lied down and turned off the lights. He could still see the jinn's eyes in the dark. He turned on his side and tried not to think of it.

After a moment, the jinn's voice said, “You won't be reluctant for long. You'll see. You people are all the same.”

Salim shivered at the resentment he could hear in those words. After that, he couldn't fall asleep.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't written fic in a very long time and I feel rather rusty. Still, the new season of American Gods just got to me. I'd written most of this story two years ago and never got around to finish. I don't think there will be more to be added in the future, but I decided to post this nonetheless.
> 
> Let me know what you think.


End file.
